Love Is Pain
by clarinetah
Summary: Chapter one up! R/R! "Love is pain, but it's definently worth it" The story of a funny, spunky, and friendly band geek who is learning that people are more than they seem and that everyone deserves a chance.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Some of the situations in this story actually happened. All names have been changed, though, so I won't get yelled at.  
  
Love Is Pain  
Prologue  
  
"Great job out there, Jess," someone said to me as they jogged past in a hurry to get to the school and go back to the football game and hitting their knuckles on my bass drum as they passed me.  
  
"Thanks," I said with a smile, even though the person, whoever it had been, couldn't see me since it was almost nine o'clock and dark outside.  
  
I twirled my mallets between my fingers as I walked down the trail that led from the elementary school to the high school. For some reason unknown to me, our football field is at the elementary school. Hey, I just march there.  
  
I breathed in deeply and sighed as I looked up to the sky. I was one of the last people to leave the stadium, as our band director calls it. I usually was, since I wasn't too keen on the idea to walk back to good old Nekoosa High School. It wasn't too far of a walk, but anyone who's had to carry the largest bass drum, for even a few minutes knows it isn't all too fun.  
  
We had just finished out last football game performance of the season. I could hardly believe that I only had two years left. I was halfway through with my marching band experience. It was a sad thought, if you know what I mean.  
  
Slowly but surely, I made it to the band room and I sighed quietly as I lugged my bass drum across the room and over to the percussion closet. I set it down in front of the closet, not really ready to put the drum away for the season. Yes, I knew that I was going to use it plenty more for the rest of the year. Basketball season started in just over one month, which meant pep bands. But it was always a little different when you were putting your uniforms away for the year. Especially this year. I learned a lot more this year than I had in years previous. And I don't mean learning to step off with your left foot or learning our new cadence. I learned actual things that would matter later on in high school (not that stepping off with your left foot or our cadence was extremely important).  
  
I gripped the sides of the drum and realized I still had my gloves on. These gloves had been a gift from God. It gets pretty cold at night in October in Wisconsin. I gained a whole new respect for the clarinets and open-holed flutes and others who had to cut the fingertips off their gloves hobo style. By the end of the game their fingertips were blue.  
  
I heaved the drum up onto the top shelf. I never did understand why the largest drum was on the top shelf, but I didn't complain...often. I closed the door to the closet and listened as the lock clicked. I picked up my hat with its white plume from on the chair I set it on so I could take off the drum. I ran my fingers through the plume, somewhat in a trance. I snapped out of it and went out onto the stage where the girls change.  
  
Most of the girls had left already to go back to the football game. There were two freshmen, though, that greeted me, but continued to talk.  
  
"Still, I'm not going to miss the uniforms," said one freshman, Callie Phelps.  
  
"Yeah, I know what you mean," said the other, Rita Winthrop.  
  
I smiled with my back to them. Earlier in the year, these two girls had been part of the group of freshmen that thought that the uniforms were cool. We warned them then that by the end of the year, they'd find that they weren't warm enough or cool enough and served little purpose except looking good from the stands and being a nuisance to the person wearing them.  
  
I quickly changed into my jeans and sweatshirt and hung my uniform up onto the hanger. I put some bandaids on the blisters that had formed on the heels of my feet from the shoes we had to wear. I learned to always carry bandaids around - especially after this year. Then I put my wrist brace on my left hand and laughed quietly, remembering how I hurt my wrist in the first place. I didn't wear the brace during practice and performances because it made it hard to bend my wrist, which was, of course, the reason I was supposed to wear it in the first place.  
  
I slipped into my Adidas sandals and put on my jacket. Rita and Callie had long left and I was the last person in there. I slung my backpack on left shoulder and carried my helmet case under my left arm and had my uniform slung over my right. Then, I made my way up to the uniform storage room, also known as a practice room.  
  
I gave my helmet and uniform to a band parent, who remarked on how well we had done. I thanked them quickly, then walked back to the band room.  
  
Most everyone had left already, anxious to get back to the game. Standing in the doorway, though, was Kevin Tyler. He had one hand on the door frame and his gaze was fixed upon the floor. I could hardly believe that three months earlier I didn't even know who Kevin was and that I thought him as a snot on top of it.  
  
I swiched shoulders me backpack was on and I walked up to Kevin, breaking him from his trance.  
  
"Ready?" he asked me, flashing a lop-sided grin.  
  
"Yep," I said and we left the room. 


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Some of the situations in this story actually happened. All names have been changed, though, so I won't get yelled at. Also, Nekoosa is a real place in Wisconsin. I just picked some random town. Another thing, "Love Is Pain" is the title of an Amanda Perez song.  
  
Love Is Pain  
Chapter One  
  
"Jessica, will you get out of bed already?" came my mother's scolding voice as her footsteps thundered past my bedroom. "You need to be up at the high school in a half an hour!"  
  
I groaned and rolled out of my bed onto my carpeted floor, lucky not to have landed on anything since my room was a mess (surprise!). "I'm up," I muttered just loud enough for my mom to hear so she'd stop bugging me.  
  
"You better be up," my mom said as she walked down the stairs.  
  
I made a face and got to my feet. I felt around for my glasses, since I was practically blind without them, and blinked the sleep out of my eyes as I tried to tell what the time was from my clock. 10:32. Why we had to be at school at 11:00 during the summer was beyond me, but it made me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. Although, it was band so I didn't mind too much. Band camp, however, was encroaching dangerously upon my sleep hours, which could result in a catastrophe.  
  
Anyway, my name is Jessica, Jessie if you're not my parents, Farley. I live in a small town in Wisconsin that no one has heard of. I'm serious. If you go to the nearest large city that's about thirty minutes away, and ask them about "Nekoosa" they've never heard of it. It's sad. Right, well, I'm fifteen and a sophomore in high school. I turn sixteen in December and it couldn't come any quicker. Until then, however, I hitchhiked, carpooled, or begged my brother for a ride to school. Fun for all.  
  
I went to my dresser and pulled out a pair of pants and a tie-dyed tank top. As I got dressed, I could hear my siblings rough housing downstairs. I have a pretty large family. I have two brothers and two sisters and, of course, my parents. My oldest sister, Jenny, is 24 and teaching. Then it was Jason, who is 20 and in college; followed by Justin, who is 17 and is a senior in high school and is probably my best friend, even though he's my brother; then, last, after me, is Jackie, who is 13 and is probably the most obnoxious person I've met, but I tolerate her. Yes, I'm aware that my parents gave all of us names that start with the letter "J". My parents' names are Paige and Brian, so no; we're not just a big "J" group.  
  
I looked in my full-length mirror and made sure I looked decent. I'm about five foot eight and I'm average in weight. I have pretty long legs, though, so I'm in cross-country and track and, of course, band. I grabbed my brush and pulled my medium blonde hair (natural, believe it or not) into a ponytail. I decided that I looked about as good as I was going to get and slipped on a pair of sandals and ran down the stairs, practically colliding with Jackie.  
  
"Heeeey!" Jackie said in a high-pitched voice.  
  
"Chill out, Jackie," I said, pushing her out of the way and going down the rest of the steps.  
  
"MOOOM!" Jackie shouted, "Jessie tried to push my down the steps!"  
  
"I did not!" I shouted back. "Little fink," I hissed under my breath and Jackie stuck her tongue out at me.  
  
Have you ever heard those stories about how younger sisters adore their older sisters? Well, that's not how it is with Jackie and me. Jackie and I are at each other's throats constantly. On the other hand, I completely look up to Jenny and call her all the time for help with guys, friends, family, homework, you name it. That's also how my relationship with Justin is.  
  
"Hey, freak," Justin said as I entered the kitchen. "I made you a pop tart so we can get going."  
  
"Thanks," I said, taking the hot pop tart and breaking it in half. Justin and I had always got along. It astounded my mom and dad. I think it even astounds us at times. We never fight like Jackie and I do or like how Justin and Jason do. Jason and I get along, too, but it's not the same as Justin and me. It's kind of nice. But, anyways.  
  
"Jessica, did you push your sister down the steps?" my mom said as she entered the kitchen with my sister in tow, who was faking a very exaggerated limp.  
  
I rolled my eyes and glanced at Justin, who was struggling not to laugh. "No, mom, I did not."  
  
"Jessica," my mom said in a threatening voice.  
  
"I didn't push the brat, all right?" I said, raising my voice. This was how most of our mornings went.  
  
My mom sighed deeply and gave me a look. She opened her mouth to talk, but Justin interrupted her. "Um, Mom, we have to get going or we're going to be late."  
  
"Fine," my mom said and pursed her lips together. "But we're going to continue this talk later."  
  
I scooped up my pop tart and followed Justin, who was spinning the car keys around his finger, out of the door and out to the car. I plopped down in the passenger seat.  
  
"Thank you," I said, taking a bite out of the pop tart.  
  
"Anytime," Justin replied, backing out of the driveway. Justin and I did that a lot. We would cover for each other and do anything to keep each other out of trouble.  
  
I half listened to Justin as he talked about how cross country was going to be tough this year since it didn't look like it was going to cool off anytime soon and practices started soon, but I was really thinking about my boy friend, Wes Leary. Wes and I had been a couple since the beginning of the summer. Kind of like one of those summer romances that I would read about in my mom's books. But Wes and I were together all the time, it seemed. Justin would complain from time to time that I never have time to hang out with him, but I knew he understood. Wes and I were "in love," or so it seemed.  
  
It's not like we didn't like each other. Wes was a year older than me and was about my height and had curly black hair and icy blue eyes. He also had a tan from working out at his parent's cranberry marsh over the summer. He was really cute and I felt lucky that he liked me. He also was very funny, but he can be somewhat mean at times. But everyone has their faults, right?  
  
"Jessie, are you alive?" came Justin's voice, breaking me from my thoughts.  
  
"Um, yeah," I said, coming to my senses.  
  
"I asked you if you wanted to stop by McDonalds after band practice about five times," he said, glancing at me.  
  
"Sure, Justin, that'd be great," I said.  
  
"You have that look," Justin said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.  
  
"What look?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"The 'oh, I'm so in love' look," Justin said, turning onto the main road in Nekoosa.  
  
"Whatever," I said, smiling slightly.  
  
"You sicken me," Justin said, laughing. "But, you know how I feel on the subject."  
  
"Yeah, I do," I said dejectedly. Justin didn't like Wes at all. In his opinion, he was a snot and wasn't worthy of my time and attention. Justin was worse than my dad when it came to guys. It was even worse with Justin, though, because he went to school with the guys.  
  
Justin changed the subject back to cross-country as we pulled into the school parking lot. I nodded to whatever Justin had said as I reached behind my seat for my bass mallets and music folder that also held my field show charts. Then, I got out of the car as Justin took his trombone out and got his music, as well.  
  
"Race you into the school," I said to Justin with a goofy grin.  
  
"That's unfair," Justin said. "I have this beast to carry, too."  
  
"Excuses, excuses," I said and took off running.  
  
"Hey!" Justin's voice came from behind me.  
  
I ran into the school and down to the band room. The room was full of people laughing and talking since most of them hadn't seen each other all summer. I threw my sticks and music in a corner and joined the social fest.  
  
"JESSIE!" came my friend's voice. I turned to see my best friend Nora White running over to me. Nora and I had been best friends since I moved to Nekoosa. What was weird, though, was that Nora and I were like day and night, at least on the outside. Nora had auburn hair that was unbelievably curly that she had cut in a short, choppy cut just below her chin. She also had bright emerald eyes that seemed to always be smiling. She also had a bunch of freckles over her nose that she was always complaining about. What made Nora so different from me, though, was that Nora was punk inside and out. Today, she was wearing a short black skirt over a pair of khakis and a white dressy t-shirt with a black tie. Her hair was up in two messy pigtails. And, of course, she had tons of eye make up on, making her look demonic. Nora had always been this way, it seemed. I went through a punk stage, but it only lasted about a semester, mainly because my parents stopped buying me make up and punk clothes.  
  
"NORA!" I shouted back to her and we hugged each other tightly. Nora and I hadn't done as much together this summer as we had in summers past. Since her parents were divorced, she had to visit her mom in Montana for most of the summer. And, of course, when she was back at home I was a counselor at my Jackie's summer camp.  
  
"I've missed you so much!" Nora said, squeezing me. "Montana was such a bore and my mom wouldn't ever let me call you or go on the computer."  
  
"Camp wasn't the same without you this year," I said, releasing Nora. Nora and I usually worked there together, but she had a summer job witnessing when she got back from Montana.  
  
"Any hot guys?" Nora asked. "Oh, wait, I forgot. You're not allowed to look because of Wes."  
  
I grinned sheepishly and said, "That doesn't mean I didn't look anyway."  
  
Nora laughed and said, "Same old Jessie."  
  
"Of course," I said. "Have you seen Wes? He said he was pretty sure he'd be able to make it today."  
  
"Yeah, I did," Nora, said, glancing around. "I think he was over by some freshmen, showing off or something."  
  
I scoffed. "Figures." Then I laughed to show I was kidding. "So, any good looking freshmen?"  
  
"No, but I there's a pretty nice looking senior walking in the door," Nora said, jerking her head towards the door. I didn't have to look to know whom she was talking about.  
  
"Nora, you have to get over my brother," I said, shuddering. "It's just weird. Especially when it's Justin."  
  
"Well, either that or Jason," Nora said with a smile.  
  
"Despite the fact that Jason is six years older than you," I said, rolling my eyes.  
  
"Come on, Jessie," Nora said. "You have to admit that your brother is good looking."  
  
"He's my brother," I said, tilting my head, not looking at Justin.  
  
"So?"  
  
"Ugh, that's horrible, Nora," I said, scrunching up my nose. Suddenly, someone came up behind me and covered my eyes with their hands.  
  
"Guess who?" came a voice I recognized.  
  
"Hey, Wes," I said, and lowered his hands.  
  
"It's the love birds," Nora said, batting her eyelashes.  
  
I rolled my eyes at Nora and looked at Wes. He had a slight look of disgust on his face, and then shook it off. Nora didn't notice and I wasn't sure how to read it. Was he disgusted with Nora or disgusted with us? I shook it off as Miss Reid, our band director, got our attention.  
  
"Ok, everyone, I'm glad you made it today," she said, standing on her podium. Miss Reid was young and in her early twenties. She had been straight out of college my freshmen year and she had high hopes for us. "Now, today we're going to focus mainly on music. Percussionists should work on the cadence. Everyone is going to break up into groups and work on "Mission Impossible." Any questions?" No one said anything. "Good. Now, just in case you are freshmen or you just never found out, this year's drum majors are Kevin Tyler and Lana Duncan."  
  
I looked up at Kevin and Lana. They were both juniors, I knew that much. Lana and I had been in the same math class my freshman year (I was in an advanced class, so I was stuck with a bunch of Juniors). Lana had a bubbly personality that could annoy people at times but I got used to it. Some of my friends didn't like her because of her peppy personality, but I didn't really mind her. She had longer blond hair that she had in a ponytail and blue eyes. She was also really tall and was in cross-country, too.  
  
Kevin, on the other hand, I didn't know at all. He was on cross-country and track, too, but I never really got to know him. My brother talked to him from time to time, but they weren't best friends or anything. Kevin was way too tall for his own good, I could tell that from looking at him. He also had pale blond hair that looked like it should be dyed, but you knew it wasn't. He also had glasses and pale green eyes. He was laughing at something someone said and it showed a mouthful of braces.  
  
"They're just like me," Miss Reid continued, "so try to show them respect, despite the fact they're your peers. They're going to be going around today, helping you all out. Now, off you go! Go into different practice rooms and practice! That's why they're called that. I want the drum line to go out onto the stage."  
  
I got to my feet, but Wes grabbed my hand. "Hey, Jess, I need to talk to you."  
  
"But, um," I started.  
  
"No, after practice," he said, smiling. "How about if I take you out to eat or something?"  
  
I weighed the odds in my head. I had told Justin that we were going to go to McDonalds, but I figured he'd understand. "Yeah, that's cool." I smiled at him.  
  
"Great," he said and pecked me on the cheek.  
  
I knew that Justin probably wasn't going to be too pleased that I was going to ditch him, but he was my brother and this was my boy friend, so I didn't really care. Besides, he'd understand. It's not like he'd never ditched me to hang out with his girl friends from the past.  
  
I grabbed my mallets, said a quick goodbye to Nora (she played the clarinet) and walked out to the stage where the equipment was already laid out. We didn't have the largest drum line, mainly because we didn't have the largest band. There was our quads, or tenors, played by Randy Taylor who was a sophomore; our three snare players: Kelly Parish, a junior, Mark Young, a freshman, and Dan Tyler, a senior and Kevin's older brother, from what I'd heard; the four bass drum players: Natalie McCoy, a sophomore who played the smallest, Will Thomas, a freshman who played the second, Rachel Jones, a junior who played the third, and me, who played the fourth and largest; and our two cymbal players, Jenna Randall, a junior, and Greg Smith, a freshman. We were decent in size, but I'd seen bands with drum lines with five quads players and twice as many snare, bass, and cymbal players. Dan was our section leader.  
  
"Ok, guys, we have this new cadence, right?" Dan asked looking around at us. He already had the floater snare on.  
  
"Uh huh," I said, putting on the harness for the bass drum, but not putting the drum on it yet. My back ached just thinking about it. This was my first year playing percussion for marching season. My freshman year I played my clarinet, like I did during concert season.  
  
"It's a pretty retarded cadence," Dan said, looking over the score. "I think I might talk to Miss Reid and see if we can stick with the one we've got."  
  
We all nodded. I had looked over my part and I had to agree: it sucked. I played on the off beats, which wasn't that bad since we would play it while marching.  
  
"So, why don't we run through it a couple times, then chill since I know she won't care," Dan asked, picking up his sticks.  
  
"Sure," Kelly said, following Dan in suit.  
  
I sighed. I hated my drum. Well, I didn't really hate it. In fact, I grew to be over protective of it. I had even named it Stanley. I know, it sounds stupid, but that's just how I am.  
  
I latched the harness onto the drum and hoisted it onto my shoulders. My back instantly began to ache. This was worse than cross country and track practice, especially when we had to walk around with them on.  
  
Dan quickly taught us the old cadence since most of us hadn't been there the year before to play it. It sounded pretty good - I had to admit.  
  
"Wow, can we take these off now?" Randy asked, readjusting his quads.  
  
"You might as well get used to it," Natalie said to Randy. "It's not you can just take them off during the middle of a parade or something."  
  
"Hey, don't dash all my hopes and dreams, Nat," I said, bending over to take my drum off.  
  
"She's right, though," Dan said. "Suck it up."  
  
I groaned and put the drum back on but sat down in a chair. "I feel pregnant."  
  
"Maybe you are," Randy said, walking over to me.  
  
"No, I'm pretty sure I'm not," I said, rolling my eyes.  
  
"You sure?" Randy asked.  
  
"I think I'd know," I said.  
  
"I don't know," Jenna said. "You and Wes seem pretty close."  
  
"Right," I said, shaking my head. "I don't think I have anything to worry about."  
  
"So, how are things going in here?" came Lana's peppy voice.  
  
"Just grand," Dan said, hitting his drumsticks together. "Couldn't be better."  
  
"Great!" Lana said, grinning from ear to ear. She turned to face Randy and me and from behind her, I could see Dan making a face. As I said before, most people didn't like Lana. How she got to be drum major, then, was beyond me since people voted for drum major.  
  
"Well," Lana said, "Miss Reid said that she wanted me to come get you guys. We're going to eat lunch quick and then go out to the field."  
  
"Already?" Dan asked, looking at his watch. "It's only been an hour."  
  
"You know Miss Reid," Rachel said with a smile.  
  
"True," I piped up, taking the drum off. "Let's go." 


End file.
